


My Wife

by Kyzellar



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Internal Monologue, M/M, finlands pov, idk what to tag this, just emotions, like at all, not historically compliant, once again this started off as a drabble, relationship exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29869215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyzellar/pseuds/Kyzellar
Summary: After running away from Denmark together, Finland is trying to find his spot at Swedens side.He spends the day ruminating on his friendship/relationship with Sweden and the role he is supposed to play in it.
Relationships: Finland/Sweden (Hetalia)
Kudos: 7





	My Wife

Finland had spent the entire afternoon scrubbing the floors in Mister Sweden's house, using a small wooden brush he had found in one of the rooms. He had spent the morning dusting off all the furniture in the living room, tidying up the boxes still laying around the hallways, and folding the laundry he had put out to dry yesterday evening, after painstakingly washing the linen bedsheets by hand. There was a lot of work to be done in Sweden's house before one could call it livable again. Considering for all the years it had been left abandoned, after his owner was forced to live at Denmark’s house, it was still in a decent shape, despite the dirt and dust that had accumulated everywhere. But now Mister Sweden was free, finally able to live in his own home again and he didn’t want to waste a second on getting to work, in making his house a home again. Finland thinks back to the first time he and Mister Sweden had reached his home. It was in a miserable condition, cobwebs everywhere, dust and grime covering most surfaces, even the outside fence was worn down and broken. 

The whole house looked more like a horror Mansion, rather than cozy home someone could find comfort in. Although a Horror Mansion would be more fitting to Mister Sweeden, Finland thought. 

Not that the Nation had done anything to justify his description of Horror, he seemed like a nice enough Man. He was just... a bit intimidating.   
Okay, very intimidating. Finland thought.   
But considering the other possible nations surrounding Finland, Mister Sweeden definitely seemed like the least of all the evils. A shiver slid down Finland's back, as he thought of Russia, Denmark and even Poland and Lithuania. These big, powerful nations which could rob him of his freedom without a problem. 

Finland wasn’t necessarily free, jet he wasn’t imprisoned by any means either, he’s pretty sure if he’d just ask Sweden, he’d let him walk right out, - he just- hadn't dared to ask yet. 

And probably never will... 

Okay- maybe he was just a little bit imprisoned, by his own fear. 

Finland dipped the brush into the dented iron bucked he had taken with him, filled with water, and rinsed it through before continuing scrubbing the floor clean off the dust that had settled. 

How did he end up like this? Scared and cowardly. Happily being someone's servant. He used to be a powerful nation, full of pride and spirit. 

Finland signed. 

He should stop thinking so negatively. Being stuck in Mister Sweden's house isn’t so bad. Yes, he was scary and had a stare that could make a grown Man cry, (it did, a couple of times actually, but Finland will deny it to this day). But he was kind, as kind as someone could be without words. He never yelled or screamed, and has never hurt Finland, or anyone who wasn’t Denmark for that matter. 

Finland didn’t mind the hard work either, he would gladly scrub the entire house twice, three times, as many times as it took to let Mister Sweden know that he was useful to keep around. 

_See_ , he thought, _I am diligent and hard working. I will do chores without arguing and eagerly do whatever housework there is. Please don’t throw me out!_

So far Mister Sweden had never hurt him, and Finland was determined on not giving him any reason to. 

With the last thought he began scrubbing the floor even harder. Moving the bristles of the brush along the stone floor. 

Less than an Hour later, the wooden house door was pushed open, as a cold wind gusts whipped into the living room, making the small Fin shiver, who had managed to scrub himself into the last remaining corner. When the Door opened up, with a dull sound when it hit the back of the wall, Finland turned to face it. As soon as he realized that the Person entering was Sweden, he turned back around and continued frantically scrubbing the floor, as if to prove he had been working the whole day. 

After a few short moments Sweden greeted Finland with a single “Hello”, his deep voice formed in a slight mumble. 

“Oh, hello Mister Sweden!” Finland exclaimed in his cheerful voice. 

“How was your day? I have been busy all day doing chores, you know, dusting, cleaning organizing some of the boxes we had laying around. Now I am scrubbing the floor, well technically I am almost done with it. It was hard work” Finland let out an exhausted sigh to end his waterfall of words. 

He noticed the awkward silence that filled the room as soon as he stopped talking, silence which forced him to overthink his last words again, realizing he had ended on a complaint. 

“Oh’ not that I mind at all.” He swiftly corrected, nervously waving his arms around to empathize his point. “I’m happy to help with anything you need done, just- just let me know okei?” 

And here I am insisting I wasn’t his wife – Finland thought to himself, realizing just how desperate he sounded. 

Sweden let his eyes wander over the entire living room, his face remaining in his usual scary expression. Finland tightened up, afraid he might have done something to anger Sweden, by implying that his home was dirty. 

After the taller man had finished scanning the floor, he spoke, without his fixated stare leaving the floor. 

“Ya’ didn’t have to do all that.” 

The phrase had sounded incredibly sincere and kind, despite the harshness that usually clung to Sweden's voice. It made Finland relax and go right back to his cheerful self.   
He watched as Sweden crouched down from his intimidating height, in order to carefully untie his shoes, which he then took into his hands are he marched barefoot on the cold stone floor, avoiding all the spots that still shimmered from not having dried completely, to place his shoes into the wooden dresser located across the room. 

“Nonsense it was really no problem at all, I am just glad to be here, and did I mention how grateful I am to you for letting -” 

Finland started trailing off again, loosing himself while blathering on and on...until he remembered that he had one more chore for today. 

“Mister Sweden, if you want to, I can already start cooking dinner for us. What would you like to-” 

Finland was shushed, partly because of Sweden's stare, and partly because he realized just what a ridiculous picture he probably gave off. 

Standing there, wearing a white apron over his clothes, sleeves rolled back to not dirty them after the housework he spend all day doing, and now offering to cook his ‘Husband’, dinner. 

_One hell of a ‘Wife’ you give off Finland_. He thought to himself sarcastically. 

He hated that word ‘Wife’. Remembering the first time Sweden had introduced him that way to Estonia. Finland had just thought it to be a joke, a weird one for sure, but nothing that couldn’t be dismissed as a simple one-time thing. 

Being shorter than most of his neighboring countries, as well as most men in his own, he was no stranger to being feminized by others. And his cute face, with soft, delicate features surely didn’t help. Even his body was different from the male ideal. The fin was strong, no doubt, but his muscles were insulated by a layer of chub. His hips and thighs were fuller than those of most men, and his stomach had rolls even when he was standing upright. 

And yes, it is true that Finland had always had a more feminine side, being more delicate than his boss would have wanted him to be. 

But none of these things stopped him from being a man, and they definitely didn’t stop him from wanting to be recognized as one. 

And he couldn't help but scold himself for how ‘Wifey’ he acted, despite him insisting he wasn’t one. 

“I’ll cook, you relax.” 

Sweden's words dragged Finland back from his internal tirade into reality, and he couldn’t help but get annoyed over how easily he got distracted. 

Finland spends the rest of the evening by quietly standing in the living room. Fidgeting nervously with his hands in his lab once he had settled down on the couch, glancing over to the kitchen where Sweden was preparing dinner for the two of them. 

He observed every single one of the taller man’s movements. How he gracefully moved his body through the tiny kitchen, effortlessly grabbing plates from the high cupboards that Finland had to climb to be able to reach. Sweden rolled the sleeves of his white button up shirt up to his elbows, exposing his strong arms which were built like the rest of his body, not from exercising or training, but from hard, physical labor. Finland watched as Sweden grabbed a knife and began cutting the ingrediences with careful precision, using little to no force as he let the sharp blade effortlessly cut through meat. Weirdly enough Finland didn’t feel the slightest bit of fear in that moment, was it the fact that Sweden's terrifying expression was facing away from him? Or maybe it was the tenderness of Sweden’s movements.   
Finland had often thought that Sweden seemed like a good person. Despite what his terrifying stare might make others believe. 

With Sweden’s back now turned towards him, Finland let his eyes wander over his body. He could see hints of back muscle through the thin fabric of his shirt, tightening with every movement Sweden made. Finland continued to gaze at Sweden’s body, taking in every detail, the defined features of his arms, the length of his legs...   
Finland jolted up when he caught himself fixating on Sweden’s ass. Embarrassed he let his head drop. His cheeks felt burning hot and were flushed bright crimson. He quickly looked around the room to find anything to hide his redden face with, when he noticed the chilled Window next to him. The cold of the glass felt like heaven against the warmth of his skin.   
“ _What was that?_ ” He asked himself, _“I - I shouldn’t be thinking like that about a friend. I shouldn’t. Why did I do that, it so inappropriate and not like it meant anything. Right? It didn’t mean anything-”_

“Finland?” 

Once again Sweden's voice pulled him out of his trance. Finland spun around on his heel, to face Sweden who stood only a few feet apart from him, holding a cooking pot willed with steaming food. 

“Food’s ready, if you want to come eat.” 

He didn't seem to suspect a thing.  
His voice sounded warm and inviting, in stark contrast to his stern facial expression. He turned to the dining table, which had already been set, placing the Pot down in the middle, and started loading one of the plates using a ladle. Once he placed the full plate down, he grabbed the empty plate opposite to it, ladle in one hand plate in the other he faced Finland with a questioning expression.   
  


Finland nodded hastily, making his way towards the table in short steps. He had just reached the table, placing his hand on the backrest of a chair, when Sweden's voice filled the room once again. This time sounding more like is usual, deep rumble. 

"Are ya' cold?" 

Cold? Finland felt many things but cold surely wasn't one of them. Quite the opposite actually, his skin still felt burning hot, despite the cold of the window. 

"No! not at all. Why do you ask?" Despite his effords to sound calm, the panic in Finlands voice was clearly audible. 

He pulled back the chair, in order so take his place at the table. Finland still kept his head low, focusing his gaze onto the food filled plate in front of him. 

"Yer' ears are all red." Sweden pointed out. 

"Ah that!" Finland had once again returned to his cheerful voice, hoping it would cover up the embarrassment he felt, for what he had thought before.   
He used his fork to poke around the plate, just to give his hands something to do. "Don't worry about that, it just happens sometimes." 

He proceeded to shove a fork full of food into his mouth, as if to distract from his obvious lie, only to be overwhelmed by the taste. The meal Sweden had cooked for them tasted delicious. This wasn't the first time Finland ate one of Swedens meals, the taller man would offer to cook for them every day, Finland only accepted when he himself was completely tired out. This was however the first time he had let himself _taste_ one of Swedens meals. It was delicious, hearty with a hint of sweetness.   
Just as he was about to look up, and thank Sweden for preparing such a great Dinner for the two of them. He saw how Sweden had made his way to the cupboard on the other side of the room, leaving his food untouched. He quickly pulled out a fluffy Blanked from one of the top shelves and placed it behind Finland on the couch. 

"Feel free to take it if you get cold." Sweden said, once he had arrived back to his chair.

Finland looked over the room, observing everything. His eyes wandered over the clean floor, the fluffy blanked, the delicious food, and lastly, on Sweden himself.   
  


_Maybe being his Wife wasn't gonna be that bad after all._

  


**Author's Note:**

> God this was a struggle to finish, originally the idea was for this to be a multichapter work. A collection of snippleds that like chronologically explore Swedens and Finlands relationship and how they grow more intimate together. But i got overwhelmed and thought of throwing the entire project in the bin, (like i often do). Thankfully i decided against deleting it, instead i just made it into a single chapter fic.  
> I plan on writing the other ideas i had to it too some day, but i need some time to relax for now. This fanfic alone took me 2 months and its less than 2000 words. 
> 
> Anyways thank you so much for reading my fic, as always constructive criticism is more than welcome.


End file.
